


Warning: Overheating Imminent

by Sharcade



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Fever, Gen, Hiding Medical Issues, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Major Character Injury, One Shot, Secrets, Short, Short One Shot, Sick Character, Sickfic, Suffering, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-15 02:17:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15402768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharcade/pseuds/Sharcade
Summary: Connor hides something from the office until he's unable to keep it up anymore.





	Warning: Overheating Imminent

Hank was used to many things from Connor.

He was used to Connor arriving to work early each day, he was used to Connor having a fresh coffee ready on both of their desks when Hank himself inevitably arrived late, he was used to Connor completing his desk work long before the day was over and idly doodling in his notes until it was time to leave. What Hank wasn't used to was arriving at work only to find that Connor wasn't there.

His terminal was off, left undisturbed, his chair tucked neatly into his desk as if he hadn't even arrived yet. Hank raised an eyebrow as he set his bag down, plopping down in his chair as he continued looking over Connor's desk. The android was never late, he hadn't been late even once in Hank's entire time of knowing him, and while the ability to sit quietly at his desk for a morning without Connor talking his ear off was a little nice, it was also a little unnerving. 

Hank glanced at the clock; he wasn't that late, Connor was likely just held up in traffic and would be there eventually. That's what Hank thought for about ten minutes. Then twenty. Then thirty. Each minute that ticked by brought with it a stronger sense of worry, Connor should have been here by now, Connor was  _always_ here by now.

Hank had waited almost an hour by the time the doors of the bullpen swung open, Connor briskly hurrying inside and nearly tripping over his own feet as he rushed to his desk. The android dropped unceremoniously into his chair, his chest rising and falling quickly as he frantically booted up his terminal. He didn't speak at first, more focused on getting immediately to work than explaining himself. Hank watched as the android quickly fixed his tie, adjusting himself to look less dishevelled as the lieutenant stared on in confusion.

Connor looked  _terrible._ His face was flushed brightly despite the rest of him looking as pale as death, his eyes unfocused and tired as he stared at his terminal, his breaths coming a little too heavy and his LED flickering with yellow. Hank had never seen Connor in any state less than  _perfect_ , so needless to say, it was a little bit jarring.

"You look like hell." he commented pointedly, leaning back in his seat and eyeing the android.

"I assure you that I am completely fine." Connor replied curtly, not looking up from his terminal. "I apologize for arriving late."

"Yeah, what was that about?"

"My systems failed to exit rest mode at the scheduled time this morning."

"So you slept in?"

"Basically." Connor mumbled, still refusing to meet Hank's eyes.

He sounded tired, his voice uncaring and exasperated as he typed away. Hank couldn't help but notice the way Connor's hands faltered occasionally, his typing proving a little too fast for his mind to keep up with. More surprisingly, the android wasn't  _talking_. Hank always braced himself for a barrage of unwanted conversation from Connor, but the tension in the air made him wonder if the conversation was as unwanted as he had believed it to be. This was boring. This was nerve-wracking. He continued watching Connor work, carefully picking out all the things that had begun to concern him. Connor was acting very, very off.

Connor, meanwhile,  _was not feeling well._ He wasn't going to admit that, not out loud, not after the events of yesterday. It had been a fairly normal afternoon, Connor picking up lunch for himself and Hank. He was on the way back to the precinct when he had gotten the notice of an active shooter situation a mere four blocks away from him. He had been confident that he could handle the situation, but nonetheless, many of his colleagues had been seriously worried about him. Hank had been terrified, blowing up Connor's phone with texts and calls the second the shooters had been apprehended. While Connor had assured everybody that he was perfectly fine, that wasn't exactly the entire truth.

Things hadn't gone exactly according to plan. Connor, as the only android detective on the scene, had been the first cop sent in. While he had been effective in disarming the first shooter, it hadn't been without struggle. The fight had been short but nasty, and what Connor had found most notable were two hits he had taken to the head and stomach. The first hit, very notably, had made him dizzy. The second hit, much more notably, had made him so dizzy that it had taken him six minutes to pull himself off to ground after apprehending the shooter. He knew easily what had happened, his gyroscope had suffered a critical hit and his balance had been  _obliterated._ The damage to his head didn't help, his systems deeming it much more critical to his operation and opting to focus most of his self-repairs to the injury in question. While it was important that his head healed quickly, the amount of thirium being pumped up to his head was causing an uncomfortable level of pressure. He felt it in the dull throbbing behind his eyes, he felt it in the way his temperature sensors malfunctioned and left him shaking like a leaf despite being practically overheated, he felt it in the way his vision could barely focus in one spot for more than a few seconds. There was definite damage.

The damage to his gyroscope had been chaotic in itself. He would sway on his feet, barely able to walk a straight line, his vision seemingly tilting as his body struggled to remain upright. Everything was  _off_ , and it was an absolute disaster. If tensions hadn't been so high, he would have definitely come clean about his injuries by now, but the way Hank's frightened eyes had searched him for injuries and blood when he had returned to the precinct had convinced him that everything would be easier if everybody believed he was just fine. They had all been so worried, he couldn't put them through any more strife. Thus, he was suffering in silence.

"Alright, I'm thinkin' it's probably time to get out of here and grab something to eat." Hank yawned, rising out of his chair and stretching. "Let's get moving."

"Of course," Connor replied softly, carefully pulling himself to his feet.

He braced himself against his chair as his vision filled with black spots of static, his balance wavering as his legs threatened to give out under him. Connor suddenly felt nauseous, the world swaying around him. He closed his eyes quickly, pressing a hand to his temple as blue blood rushed to his head. The pressure was almost crippling, the android struggling to stifle a quiet gasp as the pain burned white hot through him.

"Holy shit, you good over there?"

"I'm alright," Connor assured hurriedly, blinking the spots away and refocusing his eyes on Hank. "Just a moment."

He was seeing double, the entire bullpen in front of him tilting and swaying and making him feel as though he was going to keel over on the spot. Hank's eyes were on him, hell, Hank's eyes were  _searching_ him, Hank knew something wasn't right and frankly Connor couldn't blame him considering how obvious the android was being. He swallowed, allowing his eyes a moment to focus before taking a deep breath and straightening himself out.

"Kid, if something's wrong, you'd let me know, right?"

"Of course, Lieutenant." Connor assured, mentally cringing at the lie.

Connor didn't enjoy lying to Hank, he didn't enjoy lying to anyone. However, he also didn't enjoy worrying those around him. If he could allow his body a little more time to rest, this could all heal up before anybody else even noticed he was off. He just needed a little rest. His vision was crowding with warnings, warnings informing him that he was overexerting, that his heat was rising dangerously high. Why then, he wondered, did he feel absolutely  _freezing?_ Cautiously, Connor stepped forward to follow Hank.

And then he hit the floor.

The next thing Connor knew, his eyes were flickering open as the world spun above him, Hank patting his face roughly in an attempt to wake him up. He felt as thought he had been on the ground for a mere second, but his internal clock read as him having been lying here for at least ten minutes now. He blinked wearily, squinting as the lights above pierced his eyes. Blurred figures towered above him, one of which he could barely identify as Hank, the other two of which proved a little harder to focus on.

"-nor? Connor, holy fucking shit, you scared me half to death kid."

"Apologies..." Connor mumbled exhaustedly, attempting to sit up before Hank placed a firm hand on his shoulder and forced him back down.

"Oh no, hell no, you're staying down."

"Just relax, Connor." Fowler's voice coaxed from above him.

"The fuck happened to him?" Gavin muttered next to him, squinting slightly.

"Connor,  _what happened?"_ Hank pressed.

Connor paused dizzily. What  _had_ happened?

"Christ, he's burning up..." Hank muttered, furrowing his brow as he carefully sat Connor upright, propping the android against his knee. "Talk to me, kid."

"A CyberLife engineer is on the way." Fowler commented, Hank giving him a nod in response.

"My gyroscope..." Connor mumbled, his words coming out more slurred than he had intended. "H-Hank, something's- something's wrong..."

"I know kid, I know, we've got a lady on the way."

"M-My head..."

Connor could feel his whole body trembling, he felt like he was  _freezing_ , despite warnings cropping up all over his vision telling him to cool down or risk internal damage.

"I'm cold..."

"Seriously? Fuck, kid, you're practically on  _fire_ , I'm getting hot just having you on my leg."

"A-Apologies, Lieutenant."

"Don't- Just- Fuck, just stay there." Hank sighed, turning to Gavin. "Go get an ice pack from the freezer."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Gavin acquiesced, standing and stalking off towards the break room.

"We gotta cool you down, kid."

"But-"

"I know, I know, just hang in there."

Connor closed his eyes again, furrowing his brow in a light grimace as the pain in his head pulsed. He wanted to go back to being unconscious, frankly.

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant..."

"We can go over how pissed I am at you later, right now I just wanna make sure you're not gonna explode or something."

"That's not-"

"Got the ice." Gavin interrupted, tossing the ice pack he had acquired to Hank unceremoniously.

Hank gave him a quick nod before pressing the ice pack to Connor's forehead, a sudden relief filling the android as he let out a hot breath, leaning into the ice pack desperately.

"Th-Thank you." he stammered quickly, his temperature steadily beginning to lower as alerts disappeared from his field of vision.

"Kid, you gotta tell me when you get fuckin' broken like this." Hank insisted, offering a disapproving frown that blended easily with his worried expression. "I can't help you if I don't know what's up."

"The mechanic's here," Fowler stated, tucking his phone away into his pocket. "Connor, how are you feeling?"

"...Dizzy." Connor breathed, pressing his head further into the ice pack. "Th-There's an indescribable pressure in my head."

"Try to relax, you're gonna be alright."

"Thank you," Connor repeated, a slight realization pinging in his head at the fact that people had cared enough to gather around him and see if he was alright, even Gavin having joined. "I-It's appreciated."

"Just rest, son."

"Affirmative, Lieutenant."


End file.
